


With You Everything is Personal.

by in_motu_proprio



Series: World War May [5]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dry Humping, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Philinda - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 18:43:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2438885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/in_motu_proprio/pseuds/in_motu_proprio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This takes place between Nothing Personal and Ragtag from Season One.  May comes back to Coulson with the video of who was in charge of the GH325 program.  It book ends a scene from their past when May made a great revelation to Phil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With You Everything is Personal.

**_Present Day_ **

Coulson sat in silence, staring at the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo just like May had after her initial viewing. A full five minutes of agonizing silence later, Coulson replayed the message. He did it three more times before he finally opened his mouth. “Have I … “

“Yes, but I believe it’s under control.” May’s hand landed on Coulson’s shoulder, trying for a reassuring squeeze. “Shut the computer.” Continuing to stare at it would do no one any good. He nodded and followed her direction, getting up to pace a little bit. May leaned against the wall and watched him for a minute. “You need to hold it together, Phil.”

He looked up with hollow, dull eyes. “How can I?”

“Simmons. Fitz. Tripp. Skye.” She reached out to take his hand and slow his pacing. “Me.” Melinda brought it to her lips and kissed the knuckles. “You can do it because we need you to hold it together, to lead us. Hydra isn’t going away. We need to find Garrett and Ward, and we’re going to need you to do it.” May continued holding Phil's chilly hand, bringing it close to her chest as she stepped closer. “So whatever breakdown you need to have, it’s going to need to come later, ok?” 

Phil nodded at her and turned his hand over in hers. “I’m sorry.” 

“I know.” May wasn’t ready to accept his apology for how cruel he’d been to her at Providence just yet . She couldn’t think of the way he’d looked at her and not get so angry she wanted to punch through a wall, but now was not the time for that discussion.

“You were loyal just like you’ve always been.” Coulson stood and wrapped his arms around her, holding May against him. His warmth and the scent of his faded cologne penetrated her in a millisecond, setting May’s heart racing. “I was wrong.” His hand cupped the back of her head and May fought against the urge to just fall into him. It was a little known fact that Phil Coulson gave the best, most sincere apology hugs in the world. Eventually there was no fighting the urge to rest against him for a moment, and May let herself accept the embrace and the comfort she always found there.

“You were, but I understand.” She looked up at him and Phil met her gaze without flinching. She could see the regret painted in his eyes and shied away from the sincerity. He was in pain, and that was one of the few things in the world that could get to May. Phil felt deeply about the people he loved, and despite everything, May did know that he loved her. It was clear by how upset he was to have given up on her. She appreciated that he knew how badly he’d screwed up, but she didn’t understand how deep it went when he had so many other things to think about. Phil was all about loyalty, though, so it kind of made sense. It was a comfort to know that even after all she’d done to hurt him over the years, that Phil was loyal.

******************************************************************

**  
_Ukraine, July 1986_   
**

The words slipped out in the moment, three tiny words that May had never said in her entire life. _I trust you_. The mission had been rough and she and Phil were currently cornered. Phil had come up with a way to get them out if she’d trust him, and that’s what he’d asked. “Do you trust me?” There hadn’t even been a pause. The words had slipped out so easily it floored her. When it came to him, May ended up shocked a lot. He had the good form not to actually say anything to her about it in that moment, but May knew she was going to be confronted eventually. 

They fought their way out of the corner they were stuck in, crossing off the guys they needed to and making it back to the rendezvous with three minutes to spare. His face was covered in blood and he had a deep gouge in his shoulder from a bullet that had been meant for her. May had escaped unscathed but that was only because he’d shoved her out of the way and taken the bullet to the shoulder for her. She’d yell at him later for doing that. She could take care of herself. Still, it had given her pause. They’d said it before _I’d take a bullet for you,_ but to see someone actually do it was quite a different thing. 

“When we get back, let me dress that for you.” May could at least do that. She didn’t know if she could actually thank him or fully acknowledge what he’d done, but she could at least dress it. Phil would want to talk about what she’d said, but May might be able to deflect it a little by letting her care for him physically. It wasn’t the first time one of them had turned to the other for first aide and it wouldn’t be the last, so maybe he’d shut up if she pretended to be focused on nursing his arm. Plus, if he got too touchy-feely, she could jab him. 

“Thanks.” He gave her that quick, soft smile he had, but it was tinged with pain. Phil opened his mouth to say something else, but the rest of the team was coming up and neither of them were keen on sharing personal information. May packed his arm in gauze and wrapped it with a bandage unit they got to base. It would get the bleeding to stop before she got into mending it, and a field dressing was better than leaving it open to infection.

When they got to the base, he walked next to her, arm crossed over his stomach, both of them silent as they headed toward the medical bay. They were in Ukraine right now, actually under Ukraine would be more apt. It was a small base, only a couple dozen agents were there at any time. It would be growing, though. And soon. The region grew more tense every day. May held the door for Coulson, nodding at the bed on the other side of the room. A nurse on duty went to get up, but May shooed her off. “I’ve got it.” Clearly used to overprotective partners, she gave Phil a quick once over and got him to say he didn’t want her help before she left for her break. 

“Take it off,” May nodded to his shirt. Phil wagged his brow and got a roll of the eyes from her. “And take these.” May put out a couple of pain killers and an antibiotic for him with a carton of milk. She’d scrounged up some peanut butter crackers too, and tossed them on the tray as well. Phil needed something in his stomach before the pills went down and it wasn’t like there was a buffet nearby. 

“Well that’s ruined.” May frowned as she tossed Phil’s ruined shirt in the garbage along with the jacket he’d been wearing. “You want a local?” 

Phil shook his head. “Not unless I’m going to need stitches.” May didn’t think so, but she kept the anesthetic to the side. It’d be there if he wanted it. “I can help clean it.” Phil went to pick up some gauze and got his hand slapped for the effort. 

“I told you I’d dress it. Now drink your milk.” Melinda took some cotton and soaked it in sterile water. “Might sting.” He knew that, though. His jaw was already tight. She worked quickly, fingers stroking the wet fiber over his skin. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen Phil shirtless, not even the first time this week. They’d been sleeping together on and off since her birthday, trying out the dating thing. It was kind of weird so they decided to be close friends who occasionally got off together instead of boyfriend/girlfriend. Only it wasn’t so occasionally and Phil had called her his girlfriend more than a few times. It seemed like neither of them could stay out of the other one’s bed for too long either. Of course it helped that Phil was one of two men who’d ever managed to get her off without her having to explicitly guide them. 

The blood caking the field dressing was stubborn since it had been there awhile and eventually May decided to soak some of the worst of it off, layering the wet cotton over it so she wouldn’t have to scrub at his skin. “I would have moved,” May said tensely. “You didn’t have to do this.” Her fingers exposed the beginning of the graze wound. It wasn’t horrible, but it was long and she knew from experience that it was painful, like a 3rd degree burn mixed with dragging your skin through gravel at 70 miles an hour. You’d think at that speed that the bullet would cauterize the wound. You’d think. 

“Didn’t want to take the chance.” Phil was clearly still in pain and May wished he’d stop being a macho prick and take the shot. She blushed and went quiet for awhile, which he mercifully let her hold onto for a good long while. She was finishing up the cleaning when he spoke next. “So, you trust me.” 

May winced and glanced up at him. “Shut up.” Phil was smiling and she was glad that he wasn’t being all girly about it. “Slipped out. Heat of the moment.”

“So you don’t trust me.” Phil was prodding now, but still with that smile on his lips. 

“I said shut up.” 

He caught her face in his hand, pulling her up to grab a quick kiss. “I don’t take orders from you.”

“You don’t take orders from me _yet_. And that’s sexual harassment.” May swatted his hand away as she started to check his wound, trying to hide the blush he’d gotten out of her.

******************************************************************

**  
_Present Day_   
**

May found an old movie on the crappy hotel television and sat on the bed, back to the headboard. It didn’t take long for Phil to settle in next to her. He didn’t need to talk about the video right now, he didn’t need to think about what had happened to him right now. What he needed right now was Laurel and Hardy and the fifth of Jack Daniels she’d brought him. They didn’t bother with a glass, instead passing the heavy square bottle between them as they watched the black and white movie. At one point, Phil’s fingers laced with hers and Melinda let it happen. Soon, though, he was setting the bottle aside and pulling her into his lap. She knew damn well that it was her job to stop this, that he was not in his right mind, but he was kissing her and pulling at her shirt. 

Neither said anything when they broke apart, just canned laughter and the panting whips of breath between them for a few long moments. May was the one to go back for the second kiss, to tear at his belt and grab his hair. She’d berate herself for it later. Right now Melinda wasn’t thinking about the right thing to do, or even the reasons this was a bad idea. She’d almost lost him after Providence. He could have just as easily shot her as watched the message from himself. In fact, the old Phil Coulson might have. 

The bed bounced and squeaked when he flipped her over and put her back to the mattress. Phil looked at her from above, the cheap hotel lighting casting strange shadows on his familiar face. May’s fingers traced his cheek, then his jaw, then his throat. The stubble rasped against her fingertips, that little sound feeling like a gunshot through her fingertips. Phil kissed her again as he settled his weight in against her. That wasn’t supposed to feel nearly as good as it did, at least that’s what she shouted at herself as his thigh moved between her legs. May’s hips rose and fell as he kissed her, rubbing herself against his thigh with a soft moan. 

Those old thoughts of pushing him away came up fast and hard though, smashing into the ember he’d fanned in her and blowing the flame out. This was bad. She needed to distance herself. Tomorrow morning she’d wake up and the pain would be horrible. She’d wake and have to break his heart again. May pulled back and looked at him. “I can’t.” The look on his face was agony, his soft eyes glazing over before he all but collapsed on her, his face buried in her shoulder. Why did she do this to him, and why did he continue to hold out so much hope? “Phil, I…”

He pulled away, standing up and walking across the room. “Maybe if you _can’t do this_ , you shouldn’t keep winding up in my bed.” It was sharp, far sharper than he usually was when it came to their strange emotional dynamic. “I appreciate you bringing me the information.” Phil sat up with his back to her, folded in on himself. She looked at his hunched shoulders and the way his arms wrapped so tightly around his chest and winced. She just kept hurting him. 

“… Phil I….” May put her hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off. 

“Just go, Melinda. _I_ can’t do this again.” He looked back at her, his neck straining. How could Phil, a 50 year old man, look like so much like a kid when he was hurt? She was frozen, laying in his bed with her shirt pushed up to her breasts and her pants open. What was she doing? Damn it. She’d come here to help him, to bring him that footage and, yet again, it had turned physical. It wasn’t really the physicality that was the problem, it was the intimacy. She could be physical without being intimate with any other man, but not with him. Melinda shook herself out of the stupor she’d fallen into and sat up. “I’m not angry, just tired May.” Phil’s hand rubbed at his eyes roughly and he stood.

Melinda moved from the bed and instead of heading toward the door, she went to him. What was she doing? He pulled back when she touched his hand, shaking his shoulders and head back and forth. Melinda’s heart was pounding, but she moved closer, cupping his face with both her hands so she could press their lips together. She needed to stop hurting him, and she needed to stop hurting herself. When she was laying in his casket, thinking about their life together, thinking about all the times he’d died on her, May realized that it hurt worse each time. If distancing herself from him actually worked to kill her feelings, it wouldn’t hurt worse each time. If she was capable of eliminating her romantic feelings for him, she’d have done it years ago. 

“Don’t do that.” Phil pulled back and went to the door. “Nothing physical right now. If you’re staying, it’s to brainstorm. Just… don’t touch me, ok?” She wished he’d have shot her. At least that she would have been able to recover from. May just nodded and buttoned up her pants. Brainstorming. She could do that. Well, she could do that once her brain stopped screaming obscenities at her. Phil excused himself to the bathroom for a few minutes, giving them both a chance to recover and reset. When he came out, he went to the closet and pulled out a giant pad of paper from the last salesman who’d stayed in the room. He tossed her a thick black marker and started to talk. It hurt, but she could cope with Agent Coulson right now far better than Phil. At least he hadn’t turned her away entirely. All wasn’t lost. He didn’t despise her, and even if she had to spend the rest of her life atoning for her transgressions, Melinda would do it. Phil deserved her loyalty, and if it took her the rest of her life, she’d prove to him that she deserved his once more.


End file.
